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VOXISTALE: Episode 1 "A Happy Ending" Ch.1

by comic

comic CHAPTER ONE
Once upon a time…
A human fell underground.
Beneath the surface, they made friends.
Made enemies.
Made mistakes.
Made things right.
After a long time, the human decided to stay, calling the underground home.
The monsters, her family.
One day, the underground was destroyed, but the monsters were able to escape, thanks to the human.
For years, they have lived on the surface.
Their story is far from over...

Voxis City.
The largest city in the world. Miles upon miles of a rainforest of skyscrapers. The center of the city contains the oldest of these, dating back over a hundred years.
As you reach the outskirts of the city, you reach an even larger expanse of land. Suburban settlements, all still a part of Voxis. A massive network of communities. Humans and Monsters alike occupy this city.
Mt. Ebott once sat nearby, now having caved in, leaving very little behind after the volcanic eruption.

In one of the suburban homes was the girl famed with having saved all of monsterkind. She was known far and wide. Once the human ambassador for the monsters, until the monster king took that role after the integration process, which was still an on-going project.

This girl's name was Frisk.
She sat at a wooden desk in her room, papers, books and writing utensils scattered across its surface, most stuff stacked out of the way. In front of her sat a paper that she was writing on, scribbling fast, the smell of bacon drifting up from the kitchen.

The room was fairly sized, walls painted a fair royal blue. All except the far wall in her room, which was a mess of colors, painted by a close friend of hers. A skeleton monster named Papyrus, who had used just about every color he possibly could to represent all of his and Frisk's friends. Due to the main coloration of the room, Papyrus assumed that Frisk had the most admiration for Undyne, which he respected and agreed with. The majority of the wall he'd painted, which Frisk commonly referred to as the "Papwall", was colored in orange, the color Papyrus associated with himself. When she asked why it wasn't red, as it was his favorite color, he informed her that he had given the rights of that color to Asgore.

A twin-sized bed sat in her room, head against the papwall, horizontal with the room. The floor was a comfortable light brown carpet, the ceiling a smooth white. Her light had four bulbs below a spinning fan that Toriel claimed "collected more dust than Gerson on a morning jog".
A dresser was located nearby, four drawers. The top drawer held her undergarments. Underwear, socks, and the more recent addition of bras. She typically preferred to wear sports bras. Any other than that made her uncomfortable.
The second drawer held her shirts. A various arrangement of different colors. Only a couple years ago, the only shirts that had filled that drawer were blue sweaters with purple stripes.
The third drawer held various pants, skirts, and shorts. Almost all were jeans, or similar to the material.
The bottomost drawer contained pajamas and dress clothes, including a blue dress she wore to school dances. It was beginning to get a little too small on her, so she doubted she'd get to wear it to prom a couple years from now.

Her walls were lined with various pictures, most of which were group pictures of her and the other monsters. One wall was decorated with a shot of her and Mettaton together, which the singing sensation had taken to having one selfie with Frisk framed every month. It was actually a pretty decent way of seeing Frisk age over the last three years.
She'd changed a lot.

When she had led the monsters out of the underground for the last time, she had been much shorter, more yellow-skinned, with shoulder-length dark brown hair and slanted eyes. So slanted it was actually difficult for most to see her actual eyes, which were a rare scarlet in color.
Her nose had been small and pointy, and she'd been somewhat chubby.

Now, three years later, she'd changed a lot. She had grown nearly a foot taller, her hair now long and flowing, down to the middle of her back. Her eyes remained as slanted as ever, but her skin had lightened with time, getting more pale. Her nose had grown longer, but was still fairly pointy. She'd thinned out with her height, and her chest had begun to pop more, much to her embarrassment, even after Toriel had sat her down and had the "talk" with her. Apparently she was late on "blooming", as her mother put it.
As she sat at her desk, she wore a pair of jean shorts, knee-high white socks with black tennis shoes, and a dark red t-shirt with a picture of spaghetti on the front, courtesy of Papyrus.

As she wrote, she muttered the words out loud as they were put down, trying to go as quickly as she could.

"A lot has happened since I fell underground. I made friends, discovered myself, and found a family. Then I saved them all. Today, we all live on the surface. Together. Happy. No more struggle. The people I love and care about are flourishing in ways I couldn't even predict. I'm so proud of each and every one of them."

She paused, lifting her pen off the paper, furrowing her dark eyebrows as she scanned the last paragraph. This was a worksheet for English II that she'd been procrastinating on for some time, but it was due today and she couldn't put it off any longer.

"Frisk, my child! Breakfast!"
"Coming, mom!" Frisk yelled back to the sweet voice calling kindly up to her. This worksheet would have to do. It was supposed to be a self-reflection and an autobiography altogether. She was nervous about turning it in, hence her procrastination. Each student would have to read their story out loud in front of the class, and while she didn't have an issue with doing that, she wasn't comfortable with sharing her life story, so she'd been as brief and simple as she possibly could.

Quickly, she folded the paper haphazardly and grabbed the strap of her black backpack, pulling it up to her desk and unzipping the front, shoving in the paper, and zipping it closed.
She slung the bag over her shoulder, and dashed out of the room. She was gone for nearly a full second before she dashed back in and grabbed her pen off her desk, then ran back out, closing the door behind her.

Frisk's room led into a hallway where there were two other doors and a set of stairs down. The door across from Frisk's room led to the upstairs bathroom. The last door was near the head of the stairs, and led into Toriel's room.
Down the stairs was the first floor, where there was the kitchen/dining room, the living room, the laundry room, pantry, two closets, another bathroom, and a guest room. They also had a basement, but the entrance was outside.
Frisk raced into the kitchen, coming to a quick stop near the dining table. There were three other individuals in the kitchen when she came in. Her adopted mother Toriel stood at the stove, humming as she finished up breakfast. A classic combination of fried bacon, scrambled eggs smothered in cheese, jellied toast, and a refreshing glass of cold orange juice.
She wore a blouse tucked into her waist, beneath a long skirt, both purple in color. A pair of smart folk glasses sat on her face.

At the front door stood Papyrus, rattling his bones in anticipation, his face screwed up in concentration, pacing back and forth in front of the exit, stroking his chin thoughtfully, muttering slogans to himself, like "Paready Papasta" and "You can't spell pasta without several letters from Papyrus".
He used to wear what was referred to as his "battle body", but now spent most of his time dressed like a chef. This was one of those times.

At the dining table sat Papyrus' older, but shorter brother, Sans. He leaned against the back of his chair, arms resting behind his head, eyes closed, a grin ever-present on his face.
He was the one monster who never seemed to physically change. He still wore his ketchup-stained white t-shirt beneath his moth-eaten jacket. Black gym shorts with white singular stripes going up horizontally. White socks, and a pair of pink, fluffy slippers. The only changes he'd made was wearing a newer, cleaner pair of socks, as Papyrus had gone on a purge just a few months ago, ridding the entire house of all of Sans' socks. Sans had simply bought more and carefully placed then where his old socks had once sat. Papyrus gave up at that point. The other change was his color of jacket.It was now a deep scarlet, hand-picked by Papyrus on their last big adventure together in what was known as the ‘Convergence’. Sans had lost his old jacket during that, so he’d had his brother pick out one for him, resulting in their colors matching before Paps became a celebrity.

The moment Frisk entered, Sans had clearly made a joke, as Toriel interrupted her soft humming with a pleasant chuckle. "Oho, Sans."
She then shifted her gaze to Frisk. "Oh, Frisk dear! Your breakfast is almost finished. It's your favorite, my child. Happy birthday."

That explained why breakfast smelled better than usual this morning. Frisk had honestly almost forgotten... she turned 16 today...
For some reason, it didn't feel special. She didn't feel... different.

"hope you enjoy the anniversary of your conception, kiddo. only get it once a year." Sans grinned at her from the table, opening his right eye to look at her. "YES! THAT IS PERFECT, SANS!" Papyrus gasped, excitement lighting up his face, before grandiosely presenting his arms in the air. "PAPASTA ANNIVERSARY SALE!"
"you made papasta four months ago. still got another eight to go 'till the anniversary."

Papyrus frowned, excitement fading from his eyes as Toriel carried a plate of steaming, wonderful breakfast to Frisk as the teen put her bag down on the floor and sat down beside Sans.
"DARN. WELL, ANYWAY, HELLO HUMAN! I SEE YOU'RE DELECTABLY DECKED OUT WITH YOUR DELICIOUS DELIGHTS!"

"Thanks guys." Frisk replied awkwardly. She never liked her birthdays much, anyway. The attention just wasn't very appealing. She didn't like special attention, regardless of the reason. Sans gave her a light shrug. "don't sweat it, kid. least we can do for you after everything. funny how your birthday seems to land on the same day every year, huh?”
“THAT IS INDEED ODD.” Papyrus agreed. “THERE’S SOME ODD, CONFUSING PATTERN GOING ON THERE. DON’T FEEL BAD FOR NOT UNDERSTANDING IT, SANS. I DON’T EITHER.”

With that, Frisk dug into her breakfast. Sure, it burnt her tongue, but the amazing taste of Toriel's fried bacon exploded her mouth with wonderful flavors. She wasn't even a quarter of the way finished when Toriel suddenly gasped. "Oh my, it's getting late! Frisk, hurry up, dear. You don't want to be late for school."
"aw, come on, tori. it's her birthday. so what if she's a little after the bell? i can sign her in." Sans offered, patting Frisk on the shoulder as she gave her mother the cutest, most innocent face she could muster with bulging cheeks full of bacon.

Toriel narrowed her eyes at Sans, then Frisk, before smiling. "Oh, well... okay, then. Just don't take too long, alright?"

"got my internal alarm set for eight o'clock, your majesty." Sans winked in reply. Toriel smirked at that, and Frisk could tell what was coming.
Sans and Toriel had made a habit of tossing jokes and puns and occasional fake insults at each other when in the same room as each other. It was adorably sickening.

"Please, Sans. Just call me Toriel. I am no longer the queen." Toriel replied, and the short skeleton's grin widened. "maybe not out there, but this castle is ruled by you."
"A castle needs a king and a queen, Sans. Any suggestions for my betrothed?"

At this, Sans blushed. Or at least the skeleton equivalent. A shade of blue befell his face. "oh... um... i... no... not really..."

It seemed Toriel had won this round.

"Well, I have some rather crucial appointments to attend to that I'd rather not miss, so I shall take my leave." She sighed, resting the dishes in the sink and running cold water over them.

"Bye, mom!" Frisk tried to call through a mouthful of cheesy scrambled eggs. Papyrus whipped a box out from behind him. Where he stored it, nobody was sure, and frankly, nobody wanted to know. "TAKE A BOX OF PAPASTA FOR YOUR DAY, LADY ASGORE! NOW ONE HUNDRED PERCENT OFF FOR ITS ANNIVERSARY SALE!"

Papasta noodles were certainly not bad, but they were funded by Mettaton, who'd grown sweet on Sans' younger brother. Sweet enough to help Papyrus make his own brand of noodles, and even get a television program in the making called "Skelechef". Needless to say, Papyrus had his celebrity work cut out for him. Sans was worried over this, even if he didn't let anyone know that. He was worried that Papyrus would be fouled in some way, and wasn't eager to pick up the pieces.
The Papasta mascot was, if you could believe it, Papyrus himself. His grinning face cartoonishly drawn on the front wearing a chef's hat, disembodied gloved hands holding up a bowl of spaghetti in front of him, the box itself an orange color. The noodles inside were multicolored, as Papyrus had been intrigued and joyous over colored pasta when he'd discovered it at Flormart.

"Oh. Thank you, Papyrus." Toriel smiled kindly, gently taking the box from him, and moving toward a cabinet.
"I'll put it with the others." Upon opening the cabinet, they could see stacks of other Papasta boxes inside. It was a tight fit, but the new box made it in, and she closed the cabinet. Papyrus beamed at her.

With that, Toriel began making her way for the door. "hey." Sans called to her. "break a leg."
She smiled. "'Tibia' continued, Sans."

"'femur' puns like that and i'll-"
"Do what? I'm the queen of this castle, Sans." She gave the skeleton a sly grin, and he blushed again. "Have a wonderful day. I might be home late, Frisk. You're free to stay over at Sans and Papyrus'. I love you, my child." Toriel blew a kiss at Frisk, who swallowed down her last bit of toast. "Love you too, mom." She blew the kiss back, flakes of crust blowing from her lips.

"I ALSO LOVE YOU, MOM!" Papyrus agreed gleefully as Sans gave Toriel a last wink. "see ya."
And with that, Toriel was gone. There were a few moments of silence as Frisk finished up her bacon, and returned to her eggs, which there were still a lot of, and she was beginning to get full.

"so, kid. how'd those pig bits taste?"
"Really good!" Frisk smiled as Sans leaned back in his seat again. "don't tell porkly that."
"SPLENDID! I HELPED MAKE THEM!" Papyrus beamed happily, placing a hand importantly on his chest. "Oh..." Frisk gulped. "Did you add pasta?"

Papyrus' jaw almost dropped as his eyes widened in disbelief. There were a few moments of silence as Sans and Frisk stared at Papyrus, who eventually found his voice.
"...I CAN'T BELIEVE I FORGOT ABOUT THAT."

Frisk watched sadly as the rest of her eggs were smothered in a rain of multicolored pasta noodles, some of which were shaped like poorly formed Papyrus heads.
  1. ThePlayfulFox
    ThePlayfulFox
    @RenzFlintrock I know, I was just thanking you for showing me @comic's work. BTW comic, do you have a tag list? If so, please add me to it.
    Jan 22, 2020
    comic and RenzFlintrock like this.
  2. RenzFlintrock
    RenzFlintrock
    Jan 22, 2020
    comic and ThePlayfulFox like this.
  3. ThePlayfulFox
    ThePlayfulFox
    Renz, thank you for that masterpiece.
    Jan 21, 2020
    RenzFlintrock and comic like this.
  4. EeviumZ
    EeviumZ
    Y E S.

    This is really good! I love Undertale fics!
    Jan 21, 2020
    RenzFlintrock and comic like this.
  5. RenzFlintrock
    RenzFlintrock
    Jan 21, 2020
    comic likes this.